


Remember When

by telliefan (captainamergirl)



Category: The Bold and the Beautiful
Genre: Gen, Memoirs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainamergirl/pseuds/telliefan
Summary: Everyone's favorite bold and beautiful psychiatrist Taylor shares her personal memories in this candid short story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Preface**  
  
There are two main schools of thought in modern psychology today. One says that your past is not important; it’s what you do with your present and future that truly matter. Basically, where you’ve come from and what you’ve done is nothing; it’s where you’re going that matters. The other says that your past shaped you and that you can’t sever it from who you are. It dictates who you are. Basically, who you were yesterday is who you’ll be today and tomorrow. I tend to believe a bit in both theories. My past, my experiences, my habits, my personality, were shaped from the very beginning and to cut myself off from that is akin to cutting off a vital body part. Alternately though, living in the past only can be very hampering. Boy, do I realize that now. You would think as a noted psychiatrist I would know that very well but I don’t always practice what I preach. I don’t think most people do… Physician, heal thyself.  
  
I am going to be honest with you though. For the longest time I didn’t like my life. I didn’t even really like who I was. I let the pain of the past completely rule my life and I usually blamed all of my problems on one person – _Brooke Logan._ But when things started getting really bad about two years ago, it took me hitting rock bottom to finally begin to see the light in the darkness again. Also, a really great friend pointed out to me that I was spinning my wheels in overdrive but that I was not actually going anywhere at all. I realized he was right. So from then and there, I decided to try to stop blaming Brooke for everything and take control of my own life. It wasn’t easy but thanks to that decision, I am in a much better place now. I like where I am in my life right now. I am looking forward, but always acutely aware of what brought me here, to this place – a place of contentedness and peace.  
  
I was finally reunited with my true love eight months ago and as I cup my ever-growing belly, his child growing bigger inside of me moment by moment, I can’t help but think of every choice I have ever made (I don’t really believe in destiny; we really do make our own, in my opinion) that brought me to the place where I know exactly who I am and where I belong. I want my new baby to know that everything I’ve done – right or wrong - made me who I am and the mother that I will be to them. I want them to know everything about me, the good, the bad, and the ugly, so they will know how hard I fought to bring them into this world, to make a good life for them; how hard I will always fight to be there for them, their siblings, their father and their niece and nephew. I know I haven’t always done the right thing but if I am honest about everything, then my child will know … They will know they mean the world to me.  
  
So let’s head a ways into the past. As I said, I do believe the past affects who you are so I suppose I should start from the very beginning. But I promise not to make excuses for the things I did. I will however make apologies to the people I hurt along the way. I will just never dwell so much in the past that it keeps me from embracing my present and my very bright future…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**  
  
My parents met at a dance in college. My father would tell me once that upon seeing my mother with her long, dark hair, mysterious hazel eyes and shapely figure; that he knew instantly that he had to have her. It didn’t matter that she was there with her longtime boyfriend, a man named Richard. It didn’t matter that she adored Richard very much; he was going to have her, come hell or high water. Jack Hamilton was always quite determined when he _chose_ to be …   
  
At the dance that night, he waited until Richard went to use the men’s room and then made his move. He slipped over to Sharon and introduced himself. Mom would later say that he was as smooth as Robert Moore’s James Bond and twice as attractive. He charmed her instantly and then evaporated into the crowd when he spotted Richard returning, a promise to see her again lingering in the air. Soon enough, they did see each other again and Jack charmed Sharon right into his bed. She dumped Richard and she and Jack ran off together, finding one adventure after another. I was born two years after they were married and Mom would admit that much of Dad’s passion for her had dulled by then. But she was determined to hang onto Jack at all costs because he was all she had in the world (not counting me or my brother, she would always hurriedly add).   
  
I grew up knowing that Mom would do anything to hold onto Dad - even when his eyes wandered to many other women. Even when on several occasions he admitted to having affairs, she would stick by him. He would always be tearful and deeply apologetic and Mom would forgive him with little more than the blink of an eye. I am sure it hurt her deep down but she couldn’t show it.  
  
It’s a sad truth that we turn into our parents sometimes no matter how much we don’t want to. I saw Sharon forgive every one of Jack’s transgressions with a forced smile until the day she died; and I learned to do the same. When people, especially lovers, treated me like a rug to tread their feet on, I just followed my mom’s example. I would outwardly accept it – you know, grin and bear it - because I knew that was what was expected of me. And I always tried to do what people wanted me to because I craved love so much. Not to say that my parents didn’t love me but they were so often busy dealing with their little soap opera life that my brother Zach and I were forgotten. We never went without clothes, food, or shelter, but we sometimes went without guidance; the only thing to live by the sound of our mother’s pleas for her husband to love her echoing in the air all around us.  
  
That’s all I knew of love for the longest time. That you had to sacrifice every value you had, every belief, every bit of your integrity, to keep it. For years I would not only follow but actually live that sad philosophy passed down from my mother. I would do anything to hold onto a man who truly never knew what love was, and certainly not how to give it to me of all people. That man was Ridge of course. I made a sad spectacle of myself out of my desperation to hold onto him, even when he left me time and again. I just couldn’t let go of him for the longest time. Decades and decades would pass before I finally realized what true love was all about.  
  
But before Ridge, of course, there was Blake. Blake Hayes, my first husband. He was another mistake in a long line of them. He would treat me like garbage for years before I finally got the courage to walk out. He abused me in every way a person can be abused and I took it until it broke me. Finally leaving him would be a very proud triumphant moment in my life but as I said, I quickly moved onto Ridge and he abused me too – though not with his fists, but with his words, his actions, his abandonment. And I would take it as I always had and I would suffer greatly whenever he would walk on me. But my children, well that’s the saddest part of all. They would suffer even more. I had always promised myself I would love them so much that they would never have to feel hurt or abandoned the way I did. But I hurt them too by clinging to Ridge so tightly until once and for all; he walked out on all of us…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**  
  
You know looking back I realize what Ridge and I had was never true love, not even close. For literally decades, I tried to convince myself that it was a deep, abiding love; that if we could just get our timing right, that everything would work out for us but it didn’t because Ridge could never love me the way I did him. And at some point I think I fell out of love with him but I also felt that I couldn’t stand to lose him. I became someone I never wanted to be in my vain pursuits to hang onto him. I wish I had figured this all out much sooner; it would have saved a lot of people a lot of heartache. Mostly my children.  
  
I love my kids so much that in the past I would make excuses for their behavior, for the things they did in the “name of love”. Probably because I wanted to make excuses for the errors I made in trying to hold onto Ridge. I feel like I forced my twisted ideals on my own kids and I pray they will one day heal from that though they are making a great effort now. Steffy finally ended her rollercoaster ride of a relationship with Liam Spencer a year ago. She had seen me be second choice for years to her father, had seen me do anything to cling to him, to make him stay, that she had accepted that she was always going to have to fight for a man’s love. I apologize to Steffy here for encouraging her to keep pursuing Liam at all costs, so much so, that like me, she sacrificed true happiness and peace for much too long.   
  
I won’t tell Steffy’s story for you because it’s her private business but I will tell you that she is currently seeing a wonderful man named Colin who treats her like a princess. Whenever she even says his name, she lights up the room with her smile. Her twins Stefan and Erin (my sweet little grandbabies!) love Colin as much as he loves them. The best part is that Steffy and Colin are not rushing into marriage but instead are taking things one day at a time, learning everything they can about each other slowly but surely.  
  
My son Thomas, my firstborn, meanwhile is married now. She's a feisty but also sweet young woman named Madison. He is also running Forrester Creations alongside Rick and they don’t hate each other nearly so much anymore (thank god!). He is doing a great job of keeping our family’s company afloat in hard economic times. I want to apologize here too him as well for letting him believe him that he was perfect, when no one is. He’s a great man but I believe he had to take many hard hits because of the fact that I always let him do anything he pleased and told him that ruthlessness would get him what he deserved – not to be second to the Logan kids. Once again, I forced my ideals on my children and can only hope this new one growing inside of me isn’t affected similarly.  
  
And last but never least, there’s Phoebe, my angel in heaven. I do believe she is watching over all of us and I hope she is proud of what she sees. I miss her every day of my life and hope that she is free from all pain and heartache where she is. Her death remains the single most heartbreaking event that ever occurred in my life or the lives of my loved ones. I feel I failed her most of all because she’s gone and I didn’t get to say I loved her one last time.   
  
There are days I can hardly function thinking of how much I miss Phoebe. There are nights where I dream of nothing but her. I dream she’s happy and free and she’s marrying some wonderful man and having a bevy of children who adore her. I dream she lives to a ripe old age, healthy and well. Most of all, I dream that she’s alive like she should be…  
  
I wonder if Phoebe’s proud of me and the decisions I have made of late. I can only pray she is but my heart will forever ache for my daughter. I sometimes feel like I am forgetting the sound of her voice and the way she used to look; forgetting just how truly blue her eyes were (pictures don’t do them justice!). My husband says she would never begrudge me happiness and I think he’s right. I just wish she was here. Her death … Well I never really dealt with it the way I should have. There would be months at a time I didn’t even utter her name because it hurt too much to hear it. But the truth is I never stop thinking of her and appreciating that she was in my life for as long as she was. She touched my heart and I will love her forever and hope that one day I will see her again…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**  
  
As I mentioned earlier, my life started to really fall apart about two years ago. I felt the whole world had turned against me. Ridge was gone. Thorne was gone. I was blurring the lines of friendship with my father-in-law even though I felt no attraction to Eric; even though I only had ever looked at him as a paternal figure. I was fighting tooth and nail with Brooke every chance we got. I was missing the heck out of my Phoebe. I was pushing my ideals on my remaining children to make myself feel better. I was for all intents and purposes, coming apart at the seams, but I didn’t know it at first. Or at least, I wouldn’t acknowledge it until the night everything started to really cave in on me.  
  
Brooke and I had gotten into another fight. Probably the most vicious one we’d ever had. I don't even remember how it all started but she ended up slapping me. I took it standing up but I was furious inside. I tried to keep my cool but she could not resist telling me that I would never get over the fact that Ridge had chosen her over me. I hated that she was right then, even if I couldn’t admit it. I yelled back at her, saying basically what a shameless, pathological tart she was. For the grand finale, she snatched a bottle of vodka from the wet bar and poured it all over me. I was drenched from head to toe. She was gloating and I just turned and walked out. You would think I would head home and wash the stink of booze right off me, but that wasn’t me back then. No I was too upset and the smell of the alcohol was giving me that old familiar craving. I wanted a drink. I wanted to forget. I wanted to self-destruct in grand old style.  
  
I drove to a seedy bar I used to frequent years before. I had discovered it after Ridge divorced me for the last time. The place was called The Pit. Appropriate name. The owner Sal remembered me very well and was friendly and ingratiating until he smelled the alcohol on me. He then asked me if I wanted some free advice. I said “sure” though I didn’t. I just wanted to drown myself in the bottom of a liquor bottle. He said three words I’ll never forget: _“You really stink.”_ And then he told me about an AA meeting in a church up the street that was currently in progress. He advised me to go, and said I was far better than this. How he knew that, I don’t know. He refused to serve me and so I traipsed up the street to the meeting just because I felt I had no other choice.  
  
People all turned and stared as I entered and took a seat at the back of the room. Some wrinkled their noses at the way I smelled. Most just looked curious. Very few looked immediately welcoming.   
  
A man who introduced himself to all of us as Marvin stood at the front of the room, tearfully talking about how alcohol had shattered his life, his marriage, his kids and ultimately his soul. I could definitely relate and even empathize. He spoke for a long time and then finally sat down. The room fell into expectant silence and then a debonair-looking black man in a three-piece, pin-striped suit took charge of the room. He thanked Marvin for this words and then his eyes seemed to zero in on me as he asked if there was anyone else who would like to say a few words. He seemed to be speaking directly to me so I raised a hand and walked up to the podium. I remember exactly what I said in vivid detail.  
  
“I’m Taylor… And I’m an alcoholic… It’s painful to say those words out loud for many reasons – the feelings are just overwhelming … the shame, the embarrassment, the fear of how people will react. I worry about that all the time. But it’s what I am. I shouldn’t deny it or act like I’m ‘cured’ because truthfully, I have been struggling with this disease for a lot of years now. Even when I am wrapped up in other things, even when I think I’m okay, I still want a drink. I don’t tell anyone I do though - even you know, when things are really getting rough. And they are getting that way right now… You can all no doubt smell the alcohol on me. Its smells like I bathed in it, doesn’t it? I actually haven’t drunk a drop of booze tonight but I want to. So badly. It’s a long story but I lost more than a few people I loved in the last few years and tonight, I think I may even have lost my mind… It’s not a pretty picture you’re all seeing. I want to stop needing a drink because I know firsthand the damage it can do to not only yourself but the people you surround yourself with… I never want there to be a day again where I disappoint or hurt someone I love because of this disease. But I am not sure if I can stop myself from reaching for a glass of bourbon the next time things get tough. I am standing here in an AA meeting and yet I am wishing I was down the street at The Pit again instead… I know we should take it one day at a time but sometimes it seems things just don’t get easier. I have a hard time being optimistic about anything anymore.”  
  
It was true. I was utterly destroyed that night.  
  
After the meeting, I was in tears but getting ready to leave when the black man who had commanded the room so seemingly effortlessly before walked over to me. He introduced himself as simply Raymond and said I should keep coming to AA meetings but that he ran a few groups closer to my “neck of the woods”.  
  
“My neck of the woods?” I asked. “How do you know I’m not from around here?”  
  
“We’re in a lousy neighborhood and I believe the expensive handbag you’re carrying is couture. My ex-wife had one just like it and I know it didn’t come cheap. Your threads – though smelly, I’ll admit – are a lot different than what most everyone else are wearing around these parts.”  
  
I couldn’t help but gesture to his own clothing. “Your ‘threads’ are not exactly from the Tee-Shirt Barn either.”  
  
He nodded. “Yes that’s true. I’ve been lucky. I have a good job. But I still like to be involved in a cause like this one.”  
  
I felt snarky so I asked him, “Oh you mean, you’re doing your good deed for the day?”  
  
“Well there’s that but mostly I know what everyone here is going through. I am an alcoholic too.”  
  
That shocked me for some reason but from that night forward, Raymond became a very wonderful friend to me. He helped me see the way I was banging my head needlessly against a wall and eventually he would help me realize my destiny.  
  
 _Destiny._ I used to openly scoff when Brooke used that word to explain some of her actions that I found offensive. But destiny is real. I just finally learned that we make our own and occasionally if we’re lucky, we have a friend like Raymond who guides us towards it with a stern voice and yet a gentle, steady hand…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**  
  
“Don’t look now but he’s watching us again,” Raymond said one morning as we sat in Dayzee’s cafe. It had become a ritual for us to meet every Thursday at eight a.m. for a quick breakfast. Breakfast being raspberry muffins and coffee. I always had roasted hazelnut and he always took his black with no cream or sugar. I liked to tease him that the lack of sweetness in his diet was what made him so stern but he would just shake his head at me and try to suppress a smile.  
  
“Or should I say - he’s watching you,” Raymond went on. I remember sighing and assuring the man who had quickly become my best friend that he had to be hallucinating even as I felt the heated gaze of my ex on me. Rick Forrester, I assured Raymond, had no interest in me and I certainly had no interest in him. I had walked away from Rick - from us really - when I had chosen that pipe dream called Ridge once again.  
  
“If he’s watching us, its because he can’t figure out who you are. It’s morbid curiosity,” I insisted.  
  
Raymond shook his head adamantly. “That’s not curiosity. Its possessiveness. ‘Who is that man and what is he doing with my woman’?”  
  
I laughed and told Raymond how absurd he sounded. And he did. He had never been anything but level-headed and here he was trying to fill my mind with such romantic notions. He had always said he didn’t have the time or the energy for love and that after his marriage ended, he would never be interested in that feeling again. But I think somehow he knew - he knew I was lonely for the companionship of a lover; knew that I wanted to feel two strong arms around me, holding me tight. However, then I was just barely admitting that fact to myself. Denial really isn’t just a river in Egypt.  
  
Raymond shrugged. “Don’t be surprised if he tries to stake his claim very soon.” I laughed again but the giggle sounded high and a bit unnatural to my own ears. There was a large part of me that hoped that one day a man would look at me like a woman again - not just as a friend or a companion or a mother, but as someone he could desire. I just refused to believe Rick Forrester would ever be that man again. I had caused him a lot of pain when I left him. Also, my children couldn’t stand the sight of him. I would never betray them for anyone - especially an unapologetic career-climber and megalomaniac who had made it his mission for years to make all of us miserable.  
  
Raymond dropped the subject fortunately and we enjoyed the rest of our breakfast chatting about everything under the sun (but Rick) as only true friends can do. When it came time to leave, I insisted on picking up the tab. He never had let me before (he was such a gentleman) but today I was insistent and he knew I could be as stubborn as him when I chose to be. He finally relented and I went up to the counter to pay.  
  
I waited on line for my turn at the counter. There was only one barista that day and the place was packed. Just then Rick came to stand beside me. He didn’t say anything at first and I felt him looking me over like I was the tastiest treat on the menu. I was about to ask him what he was trying to pull when he leaned close and whispered to me, “I didn’t think guys like him were your type.” I knew he meant Raymond and I was incensed. Was he really standing there making a racist insinuation? He must have read my mind because he quickly added, “By that I mean, he’s not a Forrester. You always have liked Forrester men. Particularly Ridge.” I sensed a little - or a lot - of bitterness in that statement but tried to ignore it.  
  
“I am over Ridge,” I said. “Not that it’s any of your business.” The line moved forward, I quickly paid the barista and hurried away. I didn’t even offer Rick a “goodbye”.  
  
I walked back over to Raymond. He was smiling at me and I could see that he so badly wanted to tell me “I told you so”. But he didn’t.   
  
Bless that man.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
From that day on, Rick began to pop up all the time, seemingly wherever I happened to be. At first I bristled at his attentions and then slowly it began to feel a bit flattering in nature. Even as I wondered what his intentions and motivations for his actions were. He complimented me often too - telling me how beautiful I looked in this or that outfit. I figured that he was working an angle. I had no reason to believe otherwise.  
  
One day I came to Forrester Creations to see my children and found them sequestered in Steffy’s office with none other than Rick himself. He grinned at me and I found myself blushing. He was getting under my skin - I don’t know why or when it had started exactly, but he was - even as I knew I should steer clear of him the way one would a copperhead snake. I immediately asked Thomas and Steffy what was going on, why they both looked so pensive while Rick was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I assumed it was business related but Thomas surprised me by saying that Rick had just informed them of his intentions to pursue me again. My mouth must have dropped open because Rick was smiling even wider. “Don’t look so shocked, Taylor,” he said. “You have known all along what I want.” I blushed as he walked by me and brazenly grazed my arm with his warm hand before leaving the office. What a pompous jerk!  
  
I quickly tried to assure my children that I had no interest in Rick, romantically or otherwise but they both looked skeptical. They did warn me that nothing good could come from aligning myself with Rick once again. I told them I had no intention of ever getting re-involved with Rick. But I know I didn’t sound too convincing - not even to my own ears.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
As Rick began pursuing me in earnest, I really began to panic because I realized I was still hopelessly attracted to the man-child. One night he caught me unaware at my doorstep and would have likely kissed me if I hadn’t forcibly shoved him away. That night I called Raymond in a true frenzy and asked him for advice. He only told me to listen to my instincts.  
  
The next morning we were to meet for our usual Thursday breakfast “date”. I was there a bit early, grabbing our same table in the corner. I waited a good hour before I realized Raymond wasn’t coming. I tried not to panic even though I knew he was always on time, like clockwork. When the hands on the clock jumped to nine a.m., I called his office. His secretary Janice answered and I could tell that she had been crying. I immediately knew something was truly wrong.  
  
“Janice,” I said. “It’s Taylor Hamilton. Raymond was supposed to meet up with me for our weekly morning get-together but he hasn’t shown... What’s going on? Do you know where he is?”  
  
I will never forget her words or the impact they had on me as long as I lived. “Ms. Hamilton, I’m afraid he’s gone. He’s - he’s dead.”  
  
I felt like the wind had been knocked clean out of me. I struggled to breathe. I struggled not to fall apart right then even as tears burned my eyes. “Ohmigod! What happened?”  
  
“He was killed by a drunk driver last night.”  
  
“No... NO!” I practically screamed. “I just talked to him last night. When did it happen?”  
  
“Sometime around ten p.m. I guess he went out to the corner market to buy some groceries and he never came back. That’s what the police told me anyway. It was supposedly instantaneous.”  
  
“A drunk driver,” I whispered. _Oh the irony. Oh the heartache..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**  
  
The phone felt like a weighty brick in my hand and slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a heavy _thud._ I hardly registered the sound or noticed the curious stares of the other customers sitting nearby. My mind was too far away then - instantly travelling back to that night. _The night I too took a life ..._  
  
XoXoxo  
  
I thought I had built a fortress around those memories, but they instantly returned to me, rendering me completely breathless. Sitting there gasping for breaths that wouldn’t come, I was transported back to that night, to that dark SUV. I could even smell the leather of the seats filling up my nostrils. I could hear the brakes squeal as I tried to swerve too late. I could see the pain and horror in Darla’s eyes as her head slammed violently into the windshield, splintering the glass with a loud _crack!_ before she went flying across the asphalt. I could see her body twisted in an unnatural position on the ground as I stumbled my way out of the vehicle and staggered to her side. I felt her clammy skin as I clumsily gripped her wrist, hoping, praying, for a pulse. And I felt the shame and the shock as the realization crashed over me that she was gone, truly gone. Her eyes were glassy like that of a fish laid out on a slab, forever frozen in a state of pain and accusation. She was dead and I was responsible. I was a killer.  
  
Looking back, I realize there was so much I could have done differently that night - so much I _should_ have done differently. Yes Phoebe had needed me, but why didn’t I call the police to go after her? I could have also just as easily phoned Ridge or taken a cab to get to my daughter … The truth was that I never should have been drinking in the first place. I was a doctor, I knew all too well that alcohol addiction ruined lives but my self-pity, my self-loathing, was stronger than my willpower. I was wrong, wrong, wrong ... and Darla had paid the price for my terrible decisions. She would never return to her loving husband’s arms or see her daughter go to college, get married, one day make her a grandmother. I had not only robbed her; I had robbed Thorne and Alexandria too.  
  
I didn’t feel that I had a right to grieve for Raymond. At that time, I felt I should have been the one who had died. I didn’t feel worthy of my next breath.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
I sat in Dayzee’s crying my eyes out for about five more minutes and then with impossibly shaky hands, I picked up my handbag and phone and tucked them under my arm, walking out as best as I could on quaking legs. I needed comfort, I needed courage. I needed an escape. Most of all, I needed to forget.  
  
 _I needed a drink._  
  
That was the most ironic part of it all; how desperately I wanted the taste of vodka on my tongue when this whole nightmare had begun because of that terrible stuff in the first place.  
  
Bars lined the whole block and as I walked, staggered really, I wasn’t sure I could resist having a drink. When the need for alcohol became too great, I stumbled into a pub called Shaky’s - which was an appropriate name given the way my whole body was trembling.  
  
I slammed down onto a bar stool and opened my handbag as the bartender, a big, burly guy with an Irish brogue approached me. “What can I get ya?”  
  
“Something, anything, to take the edge off.”  
  
He stared at me for a moment, critically I thought, and then shrugged. “Coming right up.”  
  
I sat there trembling on the seat as I watched him pour a mug of frothy beer. I was licking my lips in anticipation the whole time. He brought the beverage over to me and apologized that he didn’t have something more “upscale” for “such a classy lady” like me. Classy? _Ha!_  
  
I started to reach for the mug, started to close my fingers around the handle of the glass. The glass was icy but paled in comparison to the cold squeezing around my heart and chest like a vice. Hands tremoring, beer sloshed over the sides of the mug, dowsing my blouse and skirt, as I slowly raised it towards my lips.  
  
“I’m sorry, Darla,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. Raymond, I’m sorry too. You had such high hopes for me. You were my very best friend…. But surely you would understand how I’m feeling right now. Surely you wouldn't blame me for taking one drink.”  
  
I knew I was lying to myself.  
  
 _One drink, Taylor?_ A stern voice suddenly resounded in my head. It sounded an awful like Raymond to me. _We both know it won’t be just one. You never could stop with just one. Fact is, neither could I… Don’t go down this way, don’t go down that slippery slope that destroyed us both. Dammit, woman, you put that glass down, and run, not walk, to the nearest AA meeting. Call your kids. Do something, anything, but take that drink. Don’t go out like this. Just don’t. Get up and walk out now._  
  
Raymond’s voice faded away. Of course I had imagined his voice; wishful thinking. I knew very well that he couldn’t speak to me telepathically from the morgue and yet… I could so easily picture his expression if he _could_ see me then. I know he’d looked disappointed. Hell, I knew he’d be angry. He would have shaken his head and threatened to wash his hands of me if I took so much as one sip.  
  
And then that’s when I put down the glass. I hurriedly threw a ten dollar bill down on the bar and hurried out of there. I got to the street curb and searched frantically for a taxi. Finally spotting one, I waved my hands manically until the driver noticed me and slowed to a stop.  
  
“Where to?” The cabbie asked as I climbed into the backseat and slammed the door after me.  
  
“St. James Church,” I said. It was only five blocks away. I knew that they had meetings at least six times a day.  
  
 _It seemed that I was headed back to AA._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**  
  
Walking into that meeting, I felt more vulnerable than I think I ever had before. I slipped into a seat in the back of the room. A woman was speaking about how drinking had destroyed her life. I, of course, related to her. I just doubted that she had ever taken another’s life like I had.  
  
I looked around the room. Everyone here seemed so different; we were all from different walks of life, and yet what bound us together was our common lust for the thing that destroyed lives - _booze._ We were united in our plight and yet I had never felt more alone.  
  
My body still craved - no, _ached_ \- for a drink. I desperately wanted to drown my sorrows one shot at a time, but I told myself that I couldn’t go there. Still, the smell of the beer on my clothes was teasing and tantalizing every one of my senses, beckoning me to run out of there and dive right into the first pub I saw.  
  
The woman sat down and the facilitator, a man with shaggy brown hair and long legs, asked if anyone else would like to speak. I contemplated just sneaking out of there but I ended up raising a shaking hand. “I’ll go,” I said in a strained voice.  
  
“The floor’s all yours,” the man said. He waved me forward and I stood on wobbly legs, practically staggering to the podium. No doubt people thought that I was already intoxicated.  
  
I leaned heavily against the podium, white-knuckling the hard edges of the wood with my fingers.  
  
“My name is Taylor and I’m an alcoholic,” I said, parroting that familiar phrase I had so many times and maybe not nearly enough.  
  
All eyes were on me as everyone returned, with “Hello, Taylor.”  
  
My voice tremored as much as my body did. “I can’t believe I’m standing here before you today. It’s not at all how I planned to spend the day.” I smiled mirthlessly. “Right now, I should be sitting at my favorite coffee bar with my very best friend Raymond drinking overpriced lattes and noshing on raspberry muffins, talking about the events of the day, talking about our lives… But I can’t because Raymond isn’t here anymore. I found out that he - he died last night.” A tear slipped down my cheek, followed quickly by another and another. “He was a recovering alcoholic too but he was my mentor and my confidant. The best friend I have ever had... Do you know what took him? Someone got liquored up and drove too fast. A drunk driver killed him.” A murmur of sympathy travelled through the group. “The worst part,” I continued on, “is I can’t grieve for him. I have no right. Because I too -- I too took a life in the very same way; the life of a dear friend’s wife.” Another murmur went through the crowd, this time one born of collective shock.  
  
“I never meant for it happen but I guess we all say that when we do something wrong. I never should have been on that dark road that night; I had no business getting behind the wheel. This woman - this woman whose life I stole… She left behind a husband and a daughter who loved her very much, who are still missing and grieving for her today because of my horrible choice. How can I dare stand at Raymond’s graveside and tell him how sorry I am that he’s gone when I took a life the same way he lost his? I know Ray would say I was being pathetic, that I was full of stupid, selfish self-pity... but I feel I failed him. And worse, I failed a husband and a daughter who are missing a beloved family member to this day; a woman who will never come home to them. I messed up so badly. How am I supposed to make things right? Tell me how.”  
  
A sob escaped my lips and I knew that I couldn’t continue on. I stumbled to the nearest chair and dropped down heavily into it. I felt someone behind me squeeze my shoulder; someone else say things would be okay in time, but they had no idea that things could never be alright again.  
  
Shortly after the meeting broke up, but I was still sitting there, trying to catch my breath. That’s when the facilitator walked over to me and pulled up a chair. “Your friend is right, you know,” he said.  
  
“Raymond?” I said. “Yes, he would be right. I _am_ pathetic.”  
  
“You’re only pathetic if you really believe you have no right to grieve for him, no right to miss him. Because you do and the more you push down your pain, the more you try to incubate it, the more its going to affect you. You’ll be reaching for a drink in no time and the vicious cycle will start all over again.”  
  
“I _do_ want a drink,” I admitted in shame. “Even after everything…”  
  
He nodded. “It’s always going to be there. This is a disease with no cure. But we can manage it with time, practice and patience.”  
  
“You heard what I said. I killed someone - a friend of the family. She was this bright light and I extinguished that light. I essentially murdered her and I got away with it. I didn’t spend my life rotting in prison like I deserved.”  
  
“Come on. You’ve imprisoned yourself with your own guilt and shame. You’ve given yourself a life sentence without the possibility of parole.”  
  
“I don’t deserve anything more.”  
  
He sighed. “Yes you do. Go back and repeat the twelve steps again and again if you have to. The two most important being -"  
  
“Let me guess… Ask for forgiveness from those I’ve wronged -”  
  
“And then forgive yourself.”  
  
I shook my head. “I don’t think I ever can do the latter part. I became very good at hiding my guilt and repressing the memories of what I did, but Raymond’s death brings it all rushing back and I can’t forget I stole someone’s life; that I stole them away from their loved ones.”  
  
“That will never change but all you can now is try to apologize. I imagine you’ve apologized to the ones you hurt many times before but it can’t hurt to do it again. And then you have to look yourself in the mirror, admit you screwed up, and say you’re not a hopeless case, that you’re not giving up fighting for your sobriety and sanity. You have a right to be happy.”  
  
“Do I?” I said. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”  
  
“And if you keep focusing on them, you’ll never get well. You may as well crawl back into the bottom of a bottle right now and who knows what havoc you’ll really wreak next time? You could end up with your own life hanging in the balance.”  
  
“What if that’s what I deserve?”  
  
“That’s stupid. Everyone and I do mean _everyone_ deserves a second chance. Only God has the right to decide who is unforgivable; only He has the right to stand in judgement. I’m not trying to get all religious on you here, but it’s true. Forgive yourself, Taylor, or I promise you things will only get more tragic from here on out.”  
  
“I can’t make any promises…”  
  
“You don’t have to. You’ve just got to try your damndest to do better each and every day.”  
  
“You know you remind me of him.”  
  
“Your friend Raymond?”  
  
“Yes. He didn’t mince words either but he was a very wise man.”  
  
“I wish I could have known him then,” the man said with a smile.  
  
I sighed and stood up. My legs were shaking a little less than before. I grabbed for my purse. “Thank you - uh -”  
  
“Ben.”  
  
“Thank you, Ben.”  
  
“No need to thank me. We all have our demons.”  
  
“I guess we do,” I said. But were anyone else’s as terrible as mine were?  
  
I waved to him and then headed outside into the bright afternoon sunshine. It seemed to mock me. I flagged down another cab and gave them my home address.  
  
I texted Steffy and Thomas, asking them to come around the house around 7 PM tonight. They quickly texted back to ask if everything was alright and I replied that I hoped it would be.  
  
There was something I really needed to do and it couldn’t wait another day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**  
  
My house was too empty and too quiet, I mused as I walked in the door. I sighed and slowly headed upstairs. After disrobing and throwing my smelly clothes in the hamper, I climbed into the shower and turned the water temperature up to blazing hot -- as if to burn away my sins.  
  
When I was done washing my hair and body, I stood naked before the bathroom mirror. It had been a long time since I’d taken a good, hard look at myself. I looked much the same as I always had but there was a definite vulnerability in my eyes, a wariness in my expression. I couldn’t hide the truth staring me in the face anymore - I was very unhappy and I would continue to be so until I faced my demons head on.  
  
I thought of the positive self-affirmations one of my professors had taught me back in college and I tried to tell myself I could do this; that I really could do this.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
I heard voices on the other side of the door as I raised my hand to knock. One voice belonged to Thorne and the other no doubt to Alexandria. Though it had been years since I had seen or heard from her, I would know that voice anywhere. And that giggle. She was laughing at something her father had said. I hated to interrupt their special moment. Alexandria deserved to laugh, she deserved to be carefree. I thought about turning around and leaving before they could see me, but I knew if I didn’t approach them now, I would lose my nerve and would never come back here again -- to this beach house Darla used to call home. Though she and I had never been very close - not like Thorne and I had been anyway - I remember how much she had loved this place, the view of the ocean and the smell of the salt carried on the sea air…  
  
Drawing in a shaky breath, I raised my hand to knock. Two soft taps. I heard Alexandria call out, _“Coming!”_  
  
In the next moment, the door opened and Alexandria stood there. She was so grown up now -- a beautiful young woman; not the little blonde child I remembered. She must be home from school for the weekend to visit her dad, I mused.  
  
I was quickly drawn from my thoughts as Alexandria spat at me, _“Taylor!_ What are you doing here? Have you come to try to worm your way back into my dad’s bed?”  
  
The words cut but then again, they should. “No, I didn’t,” I said, my voice sounding soft and plaintive to my own ears. “I was hoping I could talk to you and your father. Just for a moment.”  
  
“We’re not interested in anything you have to say, you - you murderer!”  
  
Tears burned my eyes but I stood my ground as best as I could.  
  
“Aly, who’s at the door?” Thorne called out.  
  
“No one we want to see,” Alexandria returned. She started to shut the door in my face but Thorne appeared and stopped her.  
  
His eyebrows lifted. _“Taylor?”_  
  
“Hello, Thorne,” I said. “I am sorry to just drop by like this -”  
  
“You mean _ambush_ us!” Alexandria screamed. “You should have stayed away -- far, far away.”  
  
“There’s something I really would like to say,” I said. “I know I have no right to show up here and bring back horrible memories in the process but I believe that this is important.”  
  
“We don’t care what you think is important, do we, Dad?” She asked Thorne. _“Do we?”_ She looked sickened and heartbroken as Thorne sighed. “No, please! Please don’t talk to her. Don’t talk to this killer.”  
  
“Alexandria, please go inside the house.”  
  
“No!” Alexandria cried. “Just make her go away.”  
  
Seeing her distress, I knew that I had made a mistake coming here. Was I trying to assuage my guilt at Alexandria’s expense? Was I being selfish yet again?  
  
“I’ll go,” I offered. Even if I hadn’t said my piece, I didn’t want to cause her any further upset.  
  
“No,” Thorne said. “You came for a reason and I need to know what that reason is.” He looked at Alexandria empathetically. “Let me handle this, okay? Just go inside and finish up the last batch of cookies.”  
  
“Don’t let her hoodwink you again - please,” Alexandria said. She shook her head and slammed inside the house. Thorne turned to look at me.  
  
“She’s protective of me,” he explained.  
  
I nodded. “Just like Darla was.”  
  
Thorne’s eyes widened and took on a decidedly stormy expression. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you mention her name,” he observed.  
  
“It has been a very long time,” I admitted. “I just thought it would be easier if I didn’t bring her up.”  
  
“Easier for whom?”  
  
“All of us,” I said, “But mostly, for me.” I felt the shame wash over me anew. “I didn’t want to have to think about the pain I caused you and Alexandria so I buried the memories of what I did deep down. But repression doesn’t change what I did, does it? I - I killed your wife. I killed Alexandria’s mother.” My eyes were burning terribly. “And nothing I say or do will ever fix what I broke.”  
  
“Why are you bringing Darla up after all of this time?”  
  
“Something - something happened today … Something that brought back all of the memories I’ve been doing my best to hide from.”  
  
“Taylor, what are you talking about?”  
  
“I think that I experienced a small fraction of what you did. And it feels awful. It’s the worst feeling in the world honestly - knowing you’ve been robbed forever of the companionship of someone who means so much to you.”  
  
“Are you talking about Steffy? Thomas?” Thorne asked, sounding truly concerned about this niece and nephew. “Are they alright?”  
  
“They’re fine. It was actually a dear friend I lost. I only knew him for a few months honestly but he understood me like no other. He was wonderful… And this morning, I found out that he was killed … by a drunk driver.”  
  
“Talk about irony,” Thorne murmured, though not unkindly, I noted.  
  
“My pain can’t possibly compare to yours and Alexandria’s but I felt some of that horror, some of that loss and despair. I thought how dare someone have the audacity to get plastered, hop behind the wheel of a death machine, and run another another human being down, leaving them for dead. I thought who does something that horrible - take a life - and then I realized … I did… Thorne, I did and I am so sorry. The saddest part is that all of the ‘I’m sorries’ in the world won’t bring back your wife.”  
  
Thorne shook his head. “That’s true… But Taylor, you know, right?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know that I don’t hate you anymore. That I haven’t in a long time.”  
  
I swallowed over the huge lump in my throat. “But you have every right to hate me. What I took from you, what I stole away-”  
  
He held up a hand to stop me. “I know. Believe me, I know. It hurts, Taylor. It’s always going to hurt actually, but I don’t hate you anymore. I can’t hate you anymore because it ate at my soul -- it ate away at my very being and made me so bitter and angry that I almost couldn’t function. I couldn’t be a good father to Aly and I realized that she deserved better. So I chose to forgive you and stop hating you _for her._ I will always be sad that you didn’t feel you could be honest with me about what you did but it is what it is, I guess.  
  
“For what it’s worth,” he added, “I am sorry about your friend.”  
  
“That means a lot. Thank you.” A tear dashed down my cheek. “I wish - I truly wish - you and Alexandria all of the best things in life.”  
  
I shifted from foot to foot. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Please tell Alexandria that I won’t be bothering her anymore.”  
  
“Tell me yourself!” Alexandria’s voice came from the doorway. I figured that she had not gone back to finish the cookies as her father had instructed but had instead, hung somewhere out of his sight, listening. “Don’t be such a coward, Taylor.”  
  
“Aly -” Thorne started.  
  
I held up a hand. “It’s okay. You’re right. I am a coward.”  
  
“Well at least you finally admit it,” Alexandria muttered.  
  
“I do. I admit that I was a coward back then and still am in so many ways. I deserve your anger and scorn.”  
  
“And my hatred.”  
  
I nodded somberly. “That too.”  
  
Alexandria crossed her slender arms. “Do you want to know the truth? The truth is that I’ve often fantasized about finding a way to hurt you like you hurt me; steal away everything you love the most until you had nothing. I made plans even … I mean, it’s only fair after what you did. But then if I realized if I hurt you like that, I would hurt my dad in the process, because he’d lose me to prison or some place like that, and he’s lost too much already. So guess what? I am not going to plot ways to make you suffer anymore. I won’t even continue to throw darts at your picture.”  
  
I didn’t know how to reply to that. Alexandria had just admitted to wanting to hurt me but I didn’t know that I could exactly dissuade her. Thorne looked very concerned though and I knew they would be having a long talk when I left.   
  
“So,” Alexandria went on, “I’m going to figure out a way to stop hating you someday, like Dad has. But the only way I can do that is if I don’t have to see you again anytime soon. Don’t come around here anymore, bothering us. Just leave us alone. Can’t you do that?”  
  
I nodded sadly. “Yes. I can do that.”  
  
“Good. Now go, Taylor. I’ve been about as charitable as I possibly can be.”  
  
“You have,” I agreed. I looked at Thorne. A tear slipped down his cheek to match mine..  
  
“Be well,” I whispered and headed down the steps.  
  
They watched me as I got into my car. I dared not look back, if only for Aly’s sake.  
  
I swiped at my tears and squared my shoulders, telling myself I wouldn't fall apart. I started up the engine and pulled away from the beach house for what I knew to be the very last time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**  
  
Steffy and Thomas were already at the house when I pulled into the long driveway at quarter after seven. I had lost track of time just walking on the beach, searching for answers in the sand and surf that seemed not to be readily forthcoming.  
  
“Mom, are you okay? We’ve been worried sick about you,” Steffy said, waddling over to me as I climbed out of the Lexus. She was seemingly growing bigger by the minute, and I thought she had never looked more beautiful. She had that glow, that pregnancy glow, people talk about. Although things weren’t exactly always smooth-sailing where Liam was concerned, I knew Steffy was happy, eagerly counting the seconds until she could hold her infant twins in her arms.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’m - I’m fine,” I answered. Or rather, _lied._  
  
“Are you sure?” Thomas asked. “You’re late for your own get-together.”  
  
“How about we go inside and talk?” I suggested. “I can throw together a big chef salad for all of us to share.”  
  
They followed me up the front steps and into the house. Steffy said, “I actually already ate, Mom. Liam made me barbeque ribs.”  
  
“Liam - _the vegetarian_ \- made you ribs?” Thomas asked with an ironic sniff.  
  
“Yes, Liam did,” Steffy said. “He wouldn’t touch the food himself of course but he did make it as a surprise for me because he knows I’ve been craving meat.”  
  
“What about you, Thomas?” I asked. “Are you hungry?”  
  
“No, I’m fine. Besides, I’d rather hear about what’s going on with you. Your cryptic texts to Steffy and me have us worried.”  
  
I nodded slowly. ”Alright, you two, please take a seat.”  
  
“So this is a sit-down kind of talk,” Thomas said. “I have a bad feeling.”  
  
“Me too,” Steffy agreed as she slipped onto the sofa, palming her full belly gently. I took a seat beside her and Thomas joined us on my other side.  
  
“It’s just …” I didn’t exactly know how to begin. “Well, there are going to be some changes happening in my life and I wanted you two to be the first to know.”  
  
“Oh god,” Steffy moaned. “Don’t tell me you and Rick are getting back together!”  
  
I shook my head. “This isn’t about Rick… Whatever we shared happened a long time ago and I do regret the relationship. I won’t go back there. I love you two too much to even consider being with him again.”  
  
“But he’s made his intentions for you painfully clear. He wants you back,” Thomas said.  
  
“This really is not about Rick or what he wants,” I said. “I didn’t call you both here to talk about him.”  
  
“So what did you want to talk about, Mom?” Steffy asked. “You look kind of tired. And pale. Long day?”  
  
“You could certainly say that…” My eyes burned. “I found out - well, I found out that Raymond died last night.”  
  
 _“What?”_ Steffy said, eyes impossibly wide in shock.  
  
 _“How?”_ Thomas said at the same time.  
  
I look between them, shame-faced. “A drunk driver ran him down. I don’t know all of the details but I do know he’s - he’s gone.” My voice wavered and a single tear rolled down my cheek.  
  
“Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry,” Steffy said. “I know how much he meant to you.” She wrapped her arms around me as best as she could with her huge belly between us. Thomas embraced both of us.  
  
Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry too. He was a really cool guy and he treated you well.”  
  
“Yes,” I agreed.  
  
“I wondered if someday you two might become an item...”  
  
I shook my head. “No, we didn’t feel that way about each other. I loved him as a friend and he reciprocated I believe, but we weren’t in love.” I sniffled. “It’s only been half a day since I found out he’s gone and I miss him so much already. He was such a grounding influence in my life.”  
  
“Mom, this is awful,’ Steffy said. “No wonder you look so upset.”  
  
I patted both of them on their cheeks. “Thank you, kids. You being here, supporting me, means a lot.”  
  
“Of course. There’s nowhere else we’d be right now. You need us.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“What can we do to help you? Tell us and we’ll do it,” Steffy said.  
  
I took a long, shuddering breath. “I need … Well, I’ve made an important decision and I need you both to support me in what I’m planning to do.”  
  
Thomas and Steffy looked at each other questioningly. “What are you planning to do exactly?” Thomas asked.  
  
“I am planning to leave Los Angeles. I am moving away.”  
  
“Oh, Mom, no! You need to be surrounded by people who love you right now,” Steffy said. Concern was written all over her pretty face.  
  
“I agree with my sister,” Thomas said. “Where would you even go?”  
  
“New York or maybe Europe,” I said. “I haven’t exactly decided on my destination yet. I just know that I need time away; that I need to clear my head for awhile, take time to figure out where I’m going with my life. It would mean so much if you would support my choice.”  
  
“We’ll support you,” Steffy said. Thomas nodded his agreement. “We’ll miss you, but we understand. It’s just when do you leave? Please don’t say you are going to miss the birth of the twins.”  
  
“No, I’ll be here for that, for sure. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I also want to be here for Raymond’s funeral… Even if I don’t exactly feel like I should attend.”  
  
“Why not?” Thomas asked, a perplexed look on his handsome face. “He was your best friend. There is no one he would want there more; I’m certain of that.”  
  
“It’s how he died …”  
  
Steffy nodded in understanding. She reached for my hand and laced our fingers. “I get it. But what happened to Darla … You’ve atoned for that many times over.”  
  
“Have I?” I asked.  
  
“Yes!” Thomas and Steffy said in unison.  
  
“I’ll feel like a hypocrite sitting at Raymond’s graveside when I hurt Darla the same way someone hurt him.”  
  
“Well, don’t feel that way. If only because if I know one thing -- Raymond would want you to be there to say goodbye. I know it won’t be easy but you can do this. You’ve survived even worse,” Steffy said.  
  
 _“Phoebe,”_ I murmured.  
  
“Yes … I miss her.”  
  
“Me too,” Thomas agreed.  
  
Silence fell over the room for a long moment as we each thought of the beautiful, sweet girl we’d known, ripped away from all of us much too soon. I had so many good memories of Phoebe and even a few bad ones, but they sustained me. They were all I had left of her.  
  
Steffy and Thomas squeezed me tightly between them and I offered them a weak, watery smile. “I love you two. Do I say that enough? Do I show it?”  
  
“You totally do,” Stefffy said. “You’re the best mother we could ever ask for.”  
  
“Again, I agree with Steffy,” Thomas said. He offered me an encouraging smile. “You will get through this. I know you will.”  
  
“Thank you. If I have you two kids in my life, I am fairly certain I can do anything.” I hugged them and again, we faded into silence. We had so much to think about tonight.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
The next month passed by quickly and before I knew it, I was standing in the LAX airport terminal, clutching a one-way ticket to New York City in my hand. I didn’t know when I’d be back in Los Angeles, but I’d picked the Big Apple because I figured it would be a good place to get lost in for awhile. My children had at first encouraged me to go to Paris and see their father. They thought I still had a chance with him now that he and Brooke were on the outs, but that was the very last thing I needed to do. I would never be first with Ridge, ever, and I needed to be. I had started to believe that I _deserved_ a man's total devotion. Raymond would have said so anyway.  
  
Speaking of Ray, I went to his funeral after all. Steffy and Thomas came along and held me close when the pallbearers carried his casket out of the funeral parlor. They threw flowers with me as he was lowered into the ground and I said "goodbye” the best way I knew how - by silently promising him that I would do better. That I would not take another day for granted.  
  
Steffy and Thomas had accompanied me to the airport today to see me off, both promising they would visit me in New York very soon. Steffy’s twins Stefan and Erin were slumbering contentedly in their double stroller, even with the hustle and bustle going on around them. Stefan had Liam’s blonde hair and Erin was just a miniature Steffy. I wanted to pick them up and cuddle them to me the way I had so many times since they were born two weeks before, but I didn’t dare wake them, so I settled for giving them gentle kisses on the crowns of their little heads.  
  
“It’s not too late to go to Paris,” Thomas said as he looped a strong arm around my shoulders.  
  
“I’m not going to Paris,” I said with a little smile.  
  
“But Dad-”  
  
“I will always love your father because he gave me all of you, but I’m not _in_ love with him that way anymore.”  
  
“But you keep his picture in your wallet.”  
  
“Because it’s an old family picture - you, Steffy and Phoebe and I are all in it with him. My children and grandchildren are my greatest loves. You always will be.”  
  
Thomas smiled. “Well, if you’re sure.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
Steffy moved around the stroller to hug me as well and kissed my cheek. “I will miss you.”  
  
“I will miss you too - all of you. Please don’t be strangers.”  
  
“We won’t, but it’s a two-way street, you know. We expect you to stay in touch too,” Thomas said.  
  
“And come back to Los Angeles one day,” Steffy said. “Because this is your real home. But in the meantime, enjoy New York, okay?”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
The intercom came blaring on, announcing that first class on my flight was now boarding. I took a deep breath. “This is it,” I said in a shaky voice.  
  
Thomas and Steffy nodded. “Travel safely and call us as soon as you land,” Steffy instructed, sounding every bit like the mother she was. Her twins were the luckiest babies in the world to have her in their lives.  
  
“I will.” I looked at my children and then pulled them into a tight embrace.  
  
“Bones. Crushing,” Thomas joked but he returned the hug.  
  
“You two be happy,” I said.  
  
“You too, Mom, okay. You too,” Steffy said.  
  
I broke free from my children very reluctantly after giving them each a buss on the cheek. “Be well and please know that I love you.”  
  
I waved to them and with fresh tears in my eyes, picked up my carry-on bag. I walked slowly towards the ticket counter, handing over my boarding pass. I looked back at my kids. Steffy’s lips were trembling and Thomas looked stoic. "Goodbye for now, my loves,” I whispered.  
  
XoXoXo  
  
I took my seat which happened to be in the very first row. It was large and spacious and I sunk back into the plush, royal blue cushions. A flight attendant came around asking if I would like a gin and tonic before takeoff. I shook my head. No, no way was I ever risking my sobriety again. Instead, I asked for a simple orange juice. She accommodated and I sat back, feeling the chilled bottle in my hand.  
  
The captain came overheard, saying that we would be preparing for takeoff. Just as a male flight attendant was about to close and bolt the door, I heard a voice shout, _“Wait. Hold the door! Coming through!”_  
  
I knew that voice. I’d absolutely know it anywhere.  
  
As he walked onto the plane, his name left my lips involuntarily. _“Nick Marone.”_  
  
His eyes went wide when he spotted me. And then his whole handsome face lit up into a smile. “Taylor!” He returned. "How the hell are you?”  
  
Before I could reply, the flight attendant was asking him to please be seated. He looked at his seat number and smiled still wider. He slid into the chair beside me. “You’re kidding,” I said.  
  
“No, this is my seat. It must be destiny, huh?”  
  
I just smiled. _Destiny indeed…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**  
  
I told you when I began writing this memoir some time ago that I didn’t believe in destiny; that I thought we made our own pathway. And I still believe that although looking back, I can’t deny that some things do happen for a reason, and there is no scientific explanation for why they do. Sometimes things are just well, _meant to be._  
  
After all, it had to be destiny, or fate, or whatever you want to call it, that put Nick on the same flight as me that sad day I was escaping Los Angeles, desperately running for higher ground. He had his father’s jet at his disposal and yet the aircraft had picked that morning to be inoperable... Which meant Nick had to fly back to New York on a commercial flight… seated right beside me.  
  
Nick and I talked the whole way to New York and we haven’t stopped talking since. He told me how much he had missed me and how much he regretted how we had ended. We agreed to be friends again. I just needed a friend at that time, after everything that had happened. He respected that, but eventually, he managed to carefully and quietly wear down my strongest defenses and we reunited only mere months ago. He’s so excited to be a father again. My stepson Jack - who I will always think of as my own son - is thrilled about the baby too. We don’t know the sex of the child I am carrying yet as we all want to be surprised. I have a feeling though that it's a girl and if so, I already have a name picked out for her - Catherine _Phoebe_ Marone.  
  
I want to honor my late daughter in every way that I can. I hope she would be proud of the life I have carved out for myself. I like to think Raymond would be proud of me. I miss him every day too and haven’t taken a drink and don’t ever intend to again. If I was ever even tempted, I would only need picture his disapproving expression and imagine his sure-to-be bracing words in my head, and I’d no longer be tempted. I wish I could thank him somehow for all he did for me but I suppose living well is the best way that I can do that.  
  
Steffy and Thomas have secured a promise from Nick and I that we will bring the new baby to Los Angeles for a visit once they are born. I am actually looking forward to the visit, whereas before I would have been dreading it. _I am ready._ I am ready to face my life and my future head-on. I am ready to embrace every day as it comes - the good, the bad, and even the ugly. I feel so blessed; I feel so content. Life didn’t turn out how I expected it to, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Not at all.  
  
I heard from Steffy that Thorne recently met someone - a fellow psychiatrist named Dr. Stacy Barton - and that he's very happy. That makes me happy too. Alexandria is in intensive therapy now -- finally working through her grief, pain and anger. I think of those two often and what I did to them, but even though it was very hard, I finally gave myself permission to forgive me for what I did. I had to -- if only because I didn’t want to continue to be an emotional cripple and cheat my family out of what they deserve from me: _a whole person._  
  
I believe I’ve finally reached a place in my life where I’m not scared anymore -- not scared that I’m going to wake up one morning to find out that all of the many blessings in my life, all the people I adore beyond words, will be gone. I finally feel happy and secure. The future is bright and the possibilities endless.  
  
If one day my beloved children should read this memoir, I want them to take away one important thing: I want them to know that we will make mistakes, that we will fall down; that we will get discouraged and feel weak and broken sometimes, but that we can get back up again; we can come back. We can fight the darkness with the help of our family and friends … and we can win. We can be happy ... _we deserve to be._  
  
 **THE END!**


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